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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27038665">Against the world| Original TWD Story|</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/KINGREGGIE/pseuds/KINGREGGIE'>KINGREGGIE</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Walking Dead (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Found Family, Lots of Angst, gore heavy, more self-indulgent shit, vague talk of assult</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 18:28:12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>11,288</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27038665</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/KINGREGGIE/pseuds/KINGREGGIE</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Two people, near polar-opposites, come together to survive. Both have lost, gained, then lost some more, each learning to trust again. It's them against the world, right? It always has been. Their sibling-strong bond is tested again and again, but will it hold up against a gang of nearly a hundred pissy assholes? They'll find out soon enough.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. An easy trip</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>This was supposed to be <em> quick </em>. A simple in-and-out trip, then hit the road again. Very straightforward. Well, when is anything that easy? Ducking into another hallway, Jaden huffs, firing an arrow right into a dead one’s eye socket. It thuds to the ground, allowing her safe passage into a thankfully empty room.</p><p>Like always, shit decided to hit the fan. Someone was here with her, and they were not good at being quiet. Seems like they wanted every walking corpse within a mile of the place to come a-runnin’. This loud motherfucker just rang the dinnerbell. God. Damn it. Well, fine, that’s just one more being she’s got to kill before she leaves. With all the gunfire, it’s either a group or just one, very trigger-happy person.</p><p>She hopes it’s just one person, because that only means one arrow to the noggin. If it’s a group? Eh, that might be a problem. A bigger problem, that is, because she’s already pretty screwed currently. Another groaning body, dead on the ground. And another, and another.</p><p>Oh shit, they’re getting too close for the bow. </p><p>The bow is slung over her torso with haste in favor of the baseball bat sticking out of her backpack. It’s messy business, but it works. For the most part, at least. A split second decision is made, she’s gotta hide before she gets swarmed.</p><p>Panting, she pushes through a door, slamming it shut. Green eyes look around the dark room for something to barricade it with, a flimsy chair will have to do for now.</p><p>She wedges it under the knob, taking a moment to breathe. The bloodied baseball bat is shoved back into its place in her backpack, the bow comes back. Much better. Taking a quick arrow count, there’s at least ten of them still in the quiver. </p><p>Ok, so she’s stuck in a room, alone, with dead ones outside the door. That chair isn’t going to hold forever. And, there’s a possible group outside too. <em> Shit </em>. </p><p>Across the room, another door opens, she can tell because the snarling and growling becomes clear for a moment. Someone huffs, grumbling, the sound of heavy guns hitting the wall makes her blood run cold. Fear is never a nice feeling. Whoever it is clearly hasn’t noticed her yet, so she spins around on her heel, drawing her bow up, taking aim.</p><p>“Don’t move.” Jade’s tone is as commanding as she can get it. Her eyes slowly adjust, letting her see her target more clearly. A man, tall. Already not looking good.</p><p>He holds up his hands, leaning against the wall across the room, “You got it, boss.” His voice is… Amused? He doesn’t sound too enthusiastic about his situation, but there’s no anger, no threat. Her people-reading skills are sharp, despite her lack of human interaction for the last six months. His voice itself is on the young side, mid twenties, gruff. </p><p>Narrowing her eyes at him, her aim is still locked, “You here with a group?” Her question is more a demand for information. Any hesitation, she’s letting this arrow fly.</p><p>“Nope, just me.” The man responds quickly, which is a bit of a relief. So it was just him making all that fucking noise, cool.</p><p>“Name.” There’s just the slightest temptation to make a snarky comment, but it’s withheld for now. She needs to know if she’s going to kill him.</p><p>He chuckles, “Jackson Reed, you?” </p><p>Huh, ok. She hesitates for a moment before responding, “Jaden Carter.” </p><p>The guns shift as he does, it’s hard to tell, but it looks like he’s checking his ammo, “So, about the dead men out there-”</p><p>“The ones you got goin’? Yeah, I hadn’t noticed ‘em till now.” Jade finally lets a bit of annoyance shine, letting her aim lower just a bit, “Good luck getting out of this.” She’s sure as hell not helping him. He’ll just get her killed. Not today. </p><p>Jackson stutters over his words, “Wait- hold up, we can get out of this, just… Gimme a minute.” </p><p>She nearly scoffs, rolling her eyes, “<em> ‘We’ </em> ?” Her remark is rhetorical, highly salty. This was going to be <em> easy </em>. She wanted something to be easy for once. Guess not. </p><p>“Yeah sure, why not?” He says, “Alright, I'm gonna open this door and take them out, be ready.” Jackson cocks his gun, he is serious.</p><p>Dear lord. This crazy bastard is serious… A sigh escapes her, she just.. She’s giving this a shot. Stuff all that distrust and irritation, help each other out of this pickle, then be on her own way. Begrudgingly, she puts the drawn arrow back in the quiver, taking out the bat once again, “I’m putting you down if you get bit.”</p><p>He snickers at her, opening the door, “Here we go.” </p><p>Near immediately, dead ones flood in, but before she can get swinging, they drop down to the floor. Muzzle flares light up the space, not a bullet is wasted, each hitting their target. In such a small space, each gunshot is a brick to the face. It's so goddamn <em>loud</em>, it almost throws her off-kilter too much to actually focus on one target. It hurts her brain, she's not used to being near guns, the sheer volume of them will always be painful. Once the masses dwindle, he motions for her to come forward, slinging his rifle over his shoulder, opting for a knife instead. Alright, so maybe he’s not <em>entirely</em> incompetent. </p><p>Shouting at it, Jade smashes one’s skull in, letting it fall. Then another, a chunk of rotten brain nearly hits her in the face. Gross. Glancing at Jack, he’s got one on his ass. In a moment of instinct, she shoves the one going for him, knocking it upside the head until it went limp. A few more smacks and stabs, they’re able to leave. She takes charge, darting out to the left, remembering a clear path she’d left on her way in. She doesn’t really check to see if he’s following, cause she can hear the loud prick trudging along with her. Goddamn it that’s stressful. </p><p>Only a few walking corpses in the way, that’s a relief. Once the two bust out through some broken glass doors, they ignore two strays coming at them with jaws open. Let ‘em be, it’s a waste of strength. </p><p>After walking down the road for at least a minute, Jade tosses a glance over her shoulder. That Jackson guy is still following, “Hey, back it up there Mr. Gunman.” She says, walking backwards to give him a pointed look. She’s not in the mood to have a straggler follow her around. </p><p>He doesn’t stop, he simply smiles, “I’m five feet away, relax.” Jack’s tone is irritating. It’s calm, almost… <em> Chipper </em>. He should not be so smiley right now.</p><p>“We’re out, now go, shoo. I don’t team up.” She shoos him, gesturing for him to stop and go away, “You’re walking noise, noise gets people killed.” </p><p>“Yeah it does.” He agrees casually, scratching at his face. Now that there’s some sunlight, she can get a proper look at him. His hair is black, cut short. He probably did it himself. Scruffy face, a scar on his left eyebrow. A few other, duller marks are scattered on his face, most notably the one across his nose down to his cheek. Clearly had his fair share of fights, “So, how long you been kickin’ it?” </p><p>… For a moment, she’s speechless, until her stubbornness breaks. She’s too damn tired to ignore him, “Since I was ten. Bounced between groups until I didn’t.” Her answer is short and simple. Nothing more, nothing less.</p><p>“You’re the stealthy type, yeah?” This man and his questions. Do not shoot him, do not shoot him. Just… Take a breath.</p><p>Turning back around to face the way she’s walking, her pace slows so he can hear her talk, “Yeah. Ammo runs out on guns, manufacturing went down the shitter a long time ago. Arrows?” Jade pauses, giving him a glance, “I can make them myself. Takes a bit, but it all goes a long way.” </p><p>A hum comes from him, “I don’t normally use the rifles too much, I just wanted an easy trip.” </p><p>That almost stops her dead in her tracks with a sharp laugh, “You wanted an easy trip? Jesus, invest in some silencers then, you’re not gonna get easy with those dinnerbells.” She shakes her head at him, near baffled he expected an easy trip with all the noise he causes, “Can’t you at least strap them down in your bag?” </p><p>“I need one out for easy access!” Jackson defends himself, grinning, “And there’s still ammo in the world, tons of it. All you gotta do is find it.” </p><p>“Tch, yeah, across the damn sea. Go ahead and raid a military base somewhere, or steal from some sorry jackass you meet. One day, the last bullet will be shot and everyone will be using bows.” She retorts, kicking a rock out of her way.</p><p>“Yeah well, I’ll probably be dead by then.” He sighs, “How old are ya now?” </p><p>That question makes her a bit uneasy. She’s been asked before, and one out of two times, the person asking tried to pull some major bullshit. Still, she answers, “Just turned seventeen.” At least, she <em> thinks </em>she did. It’s nearing the end of a painful summer, some leaves are fading to red and yellow. And there’s a gut feeling, sometimes. Like she knows another year of her life has passed.</p><p>It takes him a second to respond, only making that anxiety worse. She has to look at him, met with blue eyes staring at her in shock, “Seventeen? Goddamn. Good on ya, kiddo.” </p><p>“Don’t call me ‘<em> kiddo </em>’, I'm not a kid anymore.” She grumbles at the nickname. There’s no room to be a child anymore. It’s life or death. Kill or be killed. Never trust the moments of peace. She’s learned that the hard way, “How old are you?” </p><p>“Not exactly sure, I think twenty-seven, maybe six.” Not as young as she thought. He looks younger, or maybe he would if he had a chance to shave, “Used to work construction, I managed to start out good.” </p><p>She wasn’t expecting a backstory. She doesn’t want to reveal hers, she’s not willing to rewalk those memories again. Not now, not ever. She’s done with making allies. It’ll get him killed. Not that she cares. She doesn’t know him. All he is, is a name and a face she’ll forget one day. What are his motives? He could be a threat, he could snap at her and do something stupid. He is a liability and it’s not going to last. Her mouth stays shut, all she does is hum at his little anecdote. </p><p>He doesn’t say anything more either. Thank god. This little truce is temporary, if he doesn’t haul ass away from her soon…</p><p>She’s going to kill him.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Firelight</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Jade finally shares more of her life with Jackson after a month of cooperation.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The flickering light of a small fire illuminates the small room it’s made in, warming cold concrete floors. Fall’s taking its sweet time rolling in, which is actually a good thing. Winters are always unforgiving, so this serves the two travelers well.</p><p>And then there’s that. The <em> two </em>, not just one.</p><p>The loud gunman named Jackson hasn’t gotten off Jade’s tail, proving himself at least determined to start some sort of mild cooperation. He’s sat across from her, with a pile of rabbit bones beside his boot, “‘Aight, I’ll admit…” He starts, tossing a bone into the fire, “Maybe the stealth pays off.” </p><p>A short chuckle escapes her, “That and a stupid amount of luck.” She’d got two rabbits, somehow. For the first time in a while, there was a hint of pride in that. Now that she had someone who could see how far she’s come, it feels less pointless.</p><p>Those two successful hunts are probably the best she’s done this whole month. Aside from that small deer she nabbed just a week ago. God that deer was so damn good, rabbit was a pain to eat. Not that it's all appetizing anyway, just a much needed change of pace. Jack’s pulled his weight well enough, her rush to rid herself of him has dwindled since they met. She’s found out a lot about him since then. He is <em> very </em> chatty, near bursting at the seams to share stories or whatever else is on his mind. She’s not ready to admit that it’s a nice change of pace, despite not being too talkative herself. He's got a scar over his eyebrow, the one opposite to her own. She wondered several times how he got it. He’s tall, but she noticed that instantly. Still, it baffles her how goddamn <em> big </em>he is. Like, he's huge. Her head barely reaches his shoulder. His fighting style is… Well it’s chaotic but it works. That axe of his can cut heads clean off, it’s impressive. </p><p>He had a family. Lived with his mother, grandma and little sister. Something stood out to Jade when he told her. He <em> had </em>them, but he didn’t say if they died or not. He also didn’t say he was looking for them. All that could imply he thinks they’re gone; or, she could take that as him simply letting them live without him, if they’re alive.</p><p>She doesn’t think they’re alive, but that was kept internal. Jackson has a small streak of optimism, she can’t let herself ruin it.</p><p>“Whatcha thinkin’ about?” His question cuts off her thoughts, pulling her out of her own mind. Green eyes meet blue, quickly glancing away.</p><p>Her head shakes, a sigh is let out, “Nothing important.” She says, dismissing any other possible questions.</p><p>Well, she tried to dismiss the questions, but he always found a way to keep a conversation going, “Hey, you never told me ‘bout your family.” It’s not exactly a question, but he knows that. It implies a question, one that’s painful.</p><p>Jade’s brow creases, she doesn’t like thinking about this. He’s revealed quite a lot about himself, though, would it hurt to do the same? Shifting, her gaze glues to the fire, “I was coming home from school when everything turned to shit. My parents got me out early, told me to pack for a trip.” Digging up the past is always hard, this is even harder. It’s still so clear, the day her life crumbled, “So I did.”</p><p>But how could a ten year old know what to pack? Half her former bag was stuffed with blankets. The rest, clothes. At least she did one thing right, “Getting out of the city was hell. People were running, screaming, hitting the car. The only reason we made it out at all was because my dad… Drove over the ones in our way.” She takes a deep breath, closing her eyes for a moment to block it all out. The input from the world, even the fire that kept her from spiraling away, “Eventually the highway got so backed up, we decided to walk. Make a party with others, share things, I guess at the time it sounded like a good idea.” </p><p>“Where’d you all go?” Jackson asks hesitantly after a long moment.</p><p>“Lots of people assumed the army was going to bring us to refugee camps, so we stayed on the highway until dark.” Jade shrugs, running a hand through her short brown hair, “Some helicopters flew over us, so I followed them through a patch of woods. They weren’t for us.” Her tone goes numb, expression vacant, “I saw huge mushrooms of fire. Bombs, they dropped bombs on the city.” </p><p>Both remain silent for some time, until Jackson breaks it, “<em> Jesus… </em> Atlanta, right?” To which she only nods.</p><p>“At that point we all scattered, taking what we could carry and going into the woods. A year passes, everything’s fucked, my parents bite the dust and I run off. You know the rest.” The story ends there. Now it’ll take her another week to recover from it. Again.</p><p>A huff of disbelief comes from him, for the first time he’s speechless. She wishes she could know what he’s thinking, what he’s wondering. People are difficult, it’s why she’s been alone for so long. Being alone out here is easy, for the most part. He’s still silent.</p><p>“... It’s whatever.” She says tiredly, “No changing it now.” </p><p>He half chuckles, the kind you make when you don’t know what else to do, “I was blastin’ outta my city by noon, I only heard a bit about Atlanta over the radio before it cut out. Must’ve been hard to see it all.” </p><p>Astute observation there. He’s right, though, and right now the bitterness takes too much effort to work up, “Yeah.” </p><p>More silence. Both just staring into the fire, letting it die slowly. Jade’s thoughts have all muddled out, nothing coherent is within her skull. She’s tired, and Jackson knows it, “Get some shut-eye, kid, I’ll keep watch.” A bold offer to make, considering she still doesn’t exactly <em> trust </em>him. Mildly liking someone does not create trust. But, might as well give him the chance to start trying. He’s useful, after all. Big guy with a bunch of guns, a body to hide behind if they stumble into another group. If it keeps her alive, she’s willing to make the most of it.</p><p>Her sleeping bag is already unrolled, but she doesn’t get in it, opting to lay on top of it instead. Her backpack makes for a shitty pillow, but it’s something, “We leave when the birds start singing.” Jade mumbles, letting herself relax a bit. </p><p>It gets him to snicker, “You got it, boss.” </p><p>Sleep never comes easy, sometimes barely at all. The best she gets tonight is 1/3rd of full sleep, nothing more, maybe less, if noises send a rush of adrenaline into her veins. It’s good to have someone watch things, though he may just be pissing off not paying attention. She’ll just have to see in the morning, when she wakes up. <em> If </em>she wakes up.</p><p>Until then, attempt sleep.</p><p>Whatever glimpses of rest Jade gets is dreamless, nothing but dark, the back of her eyelids are all she sees. Half aware of the world around her, the sound of guns and bags rustling makes her jolt awake, assuming she’s being robbed. Apparently her expression is rather harsh, making Jackson jump, “Shit, mornin’ sunshine.” Why the hell is he smiling?</p><p>She groans, laying back down, hearing birds chirping from outside the abandoned little building they decided to squat in for the night. Second floor, up away from any dead ones. A zipper is pulled shut, his backpack pulled over his shoulders and secured there, “C’mon, birds are singin’.” He nudges her leg with his foot, earning a glare.</p><p>Chugging her brain into gear, she goes through the motions of tightly rolling up the sleeping bag, putting it in it’s travel sleeve, then stuffing it into her backpack. Thank god for big bags. After that, she rises to her feet as well, looping the quiver around her hips and slinging the bow over her chest.</p><p>“Alright, lets go.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Unsavory encounter</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The duo runs into some unfriendly folks, Jackson is beginning to prove himself trustworthy.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>After having a <em> mild </em>argument over which direction to go, Jade lead Jackson through the woods, eventually stumbling upon a stretch of road wedged between a sea of forest. That hike was about two hours ago, they’ve been strolling down the road since then. Every so often they find a wrecked car off to the side, already looted for nearly everything it was worth.</p><p>They’re both in new territory, which makes her just the slightest bit uneasy. Her nerves are tense enough to the point she’s carrying her bow by hand instead of over her shoulder. It took Jackson a moment to catch on, but he’d mirrored the action as well, rifle at the ready.</p><p>He’s not as chatty as he normally is, his bag is making less noise. Did he actually take her suggestion? Seems like it.</p><p>The subtle wind carries a cold bite to it, animals are slowing down, geese fly overhead. Every crunch, every rustle of leaves makes her hair stand on end. She’s prepared for anything and everything, but that doesn’t change the fact it’ll scare the hell out of her.</p><p>“Do you know where we are?” Jackson asks in a hushed tone, as if the very hills are listening. A smart move on his part. Whether or not his effort to be quiet is subconscious or not, it’s still greatly appreciated. </p><p>Jade shakes her head, “Nope.” She never knows where she is, life’s dragged her all over the place. She barely even knew if they were still in the states or not.</p><p>He nods, “Cool, cool.” Always one to remain optimistic, isn’t he? Maybe it’ll balance out the unending pessimism she seems to hold. </p><p>More minutes pass, for some odd reason there’s not too many dead ones on the road. Were they all in the forest? They’d passed plenty of ancient corpses, so old they’ve stopped smelling, but nothing groaning. She’s not sure if that should be considered a good thing. For now, it’s  good</p><p>Time is weird when all you live by is sun-up and sun-down. No clocks, no schedules, just day and night. What feels like another hour has passed, the pace they travel at hasn’t changed. There’s a minor objective in the back of her head, find a town, loot, make arrows. Regular things, but still important. What Jackson wants to do is a mystery, but they’ll figure it out soon enough.</p><p>As if out of nowhere, a snapping twig comes from behind them, hostile growling drawing near. The two take aim, but Jade’s on it. An arrow flies, hitting it right between the eyes. She sighs, watching it fall to the ground. Ok, nothing too- </p><p>“Nice shot there, itty-bitty.” A stranger’s voice compliments after an impressed whistle. </p><p>Another arrow is drawn back, her face morphs into a scowl. Jack’s already got his aim on the man that spoke. That man is accompanied by others, two others. A scrawny dude, scraggly hair with a torn-up blue hoodie, scuffed jeans. On his belt, a machete sheath, no visible gun. The other is bigger, stubbier, long blond, greasy hair. This one only has a dirty white tank top and combat trousers. He doesn’t carry any weapon either of the two tense travelers can see.</p><p>The man who spoke slowly strides in front of them, trying to get their backs to the forest. Jade’s not letting that slide, so she moves parallel with him, arrow locked on. She doesn’t speak, and she prays that her only ally stays mute as well. He’s got a black leather jacket, nicer jeans than the others, grey hair. Looks like someone she wants to kill as soon as possible.</p><p>Smiling, the stranger holds up his hands, “Easy now, we don’t want any trouble.” His eyes stare right into hers, something vile hidden behind them. He's not too good at hiding his intent, she can practically smell the arrogance wafting off him. Or maybe that's just ungodly BO. Still, she knows almost exactly what he and his buddies want, maybe even before they do. </p><p>Making a move she doesn’t expect, Jack steps in front of her, lowering his weapon, “Neither do we. We’re just passin’ through.” His tone is wary, yet assured. Holding his ground. </p><p>Glancing at the other two, the scrappy one in the hoodie is getting too close for comfort. She points her bow at him instead, taking a risky step forward, “Back off.” She barks at him, deepening her voice. It only makes the presumed leader of the men chuckle.</p><p>Jackson gives her a ‘<em> calm down </em>’ gesture and a stern look, “I wouldn’t get too close to her, she’s a bit… Easy to piss off.” </p><p><em> Fuck </em> . Goddamn it, he doesn’t know. There’s a reason she cut her hair short, there’s a reason she’s making her voice deeper. It’s to hide the fact she’s a <em> girl </em>. The stranger’s vibes have all changed, they trade glances.</p><p>She’s<em> this close </em> to letting the arrow fly, her first target is the grossest one making a face at her. Green eyes glare daggers at all of the strangers.</p><p>Turning around on her heel, her gut tells her to check behind her. Another man approaches, holding a knife, “Woah, relax princess, we ain’t gonna bite.” Liar. God, it's almost like he's making a joke, so amused he assumes she hasn't caught on yet. She has, and they'd be wise to see it. But, they're not wise, they're dead. All of them. Soon.</p><p>Jade’s back is against Jackson’s, they’re surrounded by the group of creeps. Jack can clearly sense her growing panic, “Hey, we’re all cool here, right? We’ll be outta your hair, just give us some space.” </p><p>His diplomacy is getting them nowhere, it’s weak and she’s not having it. With a growl, she rushes to move in front of him, pointing directly at the lead man, “Come any closer and I’ll kill you.” Jade sneers, “Fuck off.”</p><p>The man just laughs again, gesturing at her, “You were right about her bein’ easy to piss off.” He sighs, pulling a cigarette carton out of his jacket pocket, “Here’s the deal, we want your guns,” The man points to himself and the scrappy guy, “And he wants your little girl.” The long-haired one nods, grinning with fucked up yellow teeth, “So, you either hand over the guns, or the girl. If you refuse, eh, we’ll just kill you both.”</p><p>Her blood runs cold, she gives Jackson a glance, he looks disturbed. They’re both disturbed, and fucked if they don’t make a move now. They have a minute at most to decide how to kill all four of these guys.</p><p>Then a plan forms in her head. One that <em> might </em>work. All she needs is for her ally to know what to do.</p><p>Lowering her bow slowly, she remains silent, putting the arrow back in the quiver. He hasn’t caught on yet, instinctively grabbing her shoulder. Her eyes meet his, her expression isn’t defeated or conceded. </p><p>Now he knows, letting her go.</p><p>Put back over her shoulder, Jade approaches the leader of the group. Getting closer to him sets off every alarm in her head, but she’s determined. The man looks all too satisfied, until she looks him in the eye. Within a second, the knife she has sheathed on her backpack strap is yanked out and plunged into the man’s throat. His scream is late and cut off by gurgling, “Jackson!” She shouts as she shoves the man to the ground.</p><p>The scrappy guy is quick to act, but not quick enough. He's wasted a valuable second by trying to go for his machete. She takes that second, charging at him, but darting past, slashing at his arm. He punches her in the face once before Jack practically bulldozes him to the ground, shooting him dead. With a huff, blue eyes meet green, “You good?” He asks, offering a hand to help her up. She accepts, being lifted back to her feet.</p><p>Blood trickles out of her nose, being wiped away with her thumb, “...Yeah, I'm good.” She sighs, looking around at the bodies, all bleeding, “Let's get out of here.”</p><p>They don’t speak for the rest of the day, her face is bruised from when she got punched. For such a twig, the guy had a solid punch. The sun begins to set after who knows how long, so the two need to make a choice. Keep going through the night or try and hunker down in a broken down car. The need for perceived security is high, they choose a corpse-free car, setting their bags in the backseat.</p><p>“It happens a lot.” Finally, she breaks the silence, “Meeting people like that.” It’s happened before. Several times before. Too often, if you asked her, but what can she do? The only solution is to kill them, so she did. She’s used to it, “Now you know why I don’t join.”</p><p>A moment passes before he says anything, “I’m not too big a fan of people either. Fuckin’ pricks.” There’s frustration under his tired tone, and it’s surprising, “Sleep, we should find a town tomorrow.” </p><p>So they are on the same page. Alright. She nods, “When the birds sing.” Her words are almost sarcastic. </p><p>Jackson chuckles, “When the birds sing.”</p><p>Maybe there is a possibility for trust here. She’s not sure, still not ready to make another friend. She can’t lose anything else, it hurts too much. But maybe, just maybe there can be something with them. </p><p>
  <em> Maybe. </em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Thoughts</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Jade takes a moment to think about her and Jackson after a nightmare. Questions are answered.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Gasping for air, Jade’s whole body jolts, fist reeled back to be thrown at someone. But no one is in front of her. It’s just the dirty windshield of the car she’s still in. A shiver holds her, it’s cold outside, but that’s not the reason she’s shaking. Adrenaline is gripping her bones, the remnants of a common nightmare echo within her skull. She has to take a breath to calm down. The men that they met are dead, <em> fully </em>dead.</p><p>Jackson sleeps soundly beside her, how he doesn’t snore is a mystery, but one she’s not complaining about. Honestly she’s surprised he’s still here, even after today. Deep down, she thinks it’s her fault that those people threatened them. She was the weak link, something worth preying upon. </p><p>It’s still dark out, but that doesn’t matter. The urge to run is too strong, so her bow is retrieved, just for safety. She won’t be out long.</p><p>Popping the door open, the traveler carefully exits, closing the door behind her. Hopefully her new friend sleeps through it. He probably will, seeming like a heavy sleeper. There’s another car just a bit further down, the moon is full tonight. It’s comforting, casting enough light down to earth to give the trees shadows. Things are near silent, except the low howl of the wind and rustling leaves.</p><p>Climbing up to sit on top of the rusted dead pickup, her gaze keeps on the moon, flicking to look at all the stars overhead. It clears her thoughts, sorting them, allowing her to really think without the fears and distractions of daytime.</p><p>At first, it’s nothing worth note. She’s simply basking in the thoughtlessness, a peace of mind that’s hard to come by. Normally the night is more stressful, but with winter slowly creeping in, people and monsters alike are slowing down. Earth itself is slowing, so she lets herself slow with it. But, like always, fear leaves residue, a twitch in her finger. </p><p>Would she have been able to survive those men without Jackson there? Prideful cynicism says yes, but objectivity thinks otherwise. Four against one, the group was clearly motivated. Jade’s come to learn that the more dark your reason is, the more you’re itching to get what you want. She’s experienced it herself, in times of desperation. </p><p>Following this train of thought, she takes this moment to weigh something. Jackson, specifically. It’s been a month, and a long one at that, so many times he’d had the chance to take from her, to kill her even. But he <em> hasn’t </em>. Time and time again he’s continually challenged her stubborn perception of their relationship. Today, he could have thrown her to the wolves, but when she tricked them into thinking she was giving herself up, he nearly stopped her.</p><p>He <em> cared. </em></p><p>Why he cared is completely beyond her. She’s been standoffish, bossy, mildly tolerant and at some points maybe even mean. All to avoid letting herself make a friend. He clearly saw her as one.</p><p>A sigh escapes her, eyes falling from the sky to her boots. A friend. The concept of that is terrifying. There’s no friends anymore, just people, possible allies and nothing more. A meat shield, a sacrifice. Right? She’s made the foolish mistake of having friends before, nearly all of those people are dead now. She could have saved some, too, if she’d put their survival before her own. But she didn’t. Instead, she ran, or hid or stole. If Jack put his life on the line for her, and if he got hurt doing it, she’d never forgive herself.</p><p>She can’t lose anyone else.</p><p>Jade asks herself if she’d do it for him. Would she throw herself at the enemy to help him?</p><p>… She doesn’t know.</p><p>That’s new. Well, it’s new regarding this question. Selfishness keeps people alive, altruism is seldom rewarded. She’s always been self-serving, people were just a means to an end. Who the hell does he think he is? Coming in one day and suddenly changing that. </p><p>Thinking is quickly becoming tiresome, she’s done with ‘running’ from her problems. From the stupid ass nightmares she hates. It’s probably best if she gets back to the car, just because it’s getting chilly doesn’t mean a sniper won’t blow her head clean off her shoulders. Gosh, what a wonderful idea.</p><p>Getting back to the car takes two minutes at most, her bow is set aside on the backseat, the passenger door is clicked shut, “Takin’ a late-night stroll, huh?” </p><p><em> Jesus </em>, his mumbled remark makes her jump, which makes him chuckle, “Boo, it’s me, ya boy.” He says, shifting to look at her, “Didn’t mean to spook you, sorry ‘bout that.” </p><p>Waving him off dismissively, Jade takes a deep breath, “No, you’re fine.” She’s just being unusually jumpy right now, still got a hint of adrenaline going. When did he wake up? Has he been up the whole time she was gone? “When did you wake up?”</p><p>Jackson shrugs, “Heard you leave, been sorta half-asleep since. I was gonna go lookin’ for you at some point, but you’re back, so yay.” </p><p>He was going to look for her? Dear lord, <em> why </em>? It’s almost annoying, how… Nice he is. Where’s that jaded bitterness? The nihilism? Why on earth did he still have compassion? He’s lost his whole family, right? There’s no way he just doesn’t let the hurt get to him, that’s absurd. </p><p>Snapping out of her confused space out, she accidentally lets a smile break through the indifferent mask she wears, “I didn’t go far, there’s a pickup just down the road, made for a good moon-gazing perch.” That sounds super dumb when she says it out loud.</p><p>He hums at her words, changing the topic, “Can’t sleep?” It’s such a simple question, but it’s so loaded.</p><p>No, she can’t, not tonight. Nightmares often ruin any possibility for rest, keeping her awake until the sun comes up, and then some, “Just had a dumb dream, I’ll keep watch.” Jade offers, since he’s taken up that job quite a bit.</p><p>“About those assholes, yeah?” He asks, but it sounds like he already knows, “Sometimes I get ‘em too.” His tone goes slightly somber, something she hasn’t heard before.</p><p>He gets nightmares too? She shouldn’t feel any sort of comforting solidarity, but she does. No, she <em> should </em> feel comforted by it. She just doesn’t like it. It’s a lie, <em> safety </em>is a lie, everything is out to kill you. Out to kill her. Both of them.</p><p>“Why’d you help me?” Jade has to ask, it’s biting at her mind, soon it’ll turn into a headache she doesn’t need or want. She needs to know why. Maybe he can help her understand. </p><p>For a second he seems surprised she even asked, like the answer is obvious, “Why wouldn’t I?” His response is a bit barebones, vague. He needs to explain. To give her a valid reason. </p><p>An exasperated sigh is let out, “You could have let that guy kill me, you could have given me to them yourself or you could have just left. Why didn’t you?” She knows it’s a heavy topic, but she doesn’t exactly care. This is going to drive her up the wall. Where does that selflessness come from?</p><p>His brows furrow, taking in her words, processing them, “‘Cause, you’re just a kid-”</p><p>“I’m not a kid anymore, Jackson. There’s no more room to be a kid.” She argues, cutting him off. She is not a kid, she’s let that die. </p><p>Jack shakes his head, “Doesn’t matter, you’re still a kid. A kickass kid. Like hell I was just gonna let ‘em take you.” </p><p>It doesn’t make sense, “They would have killed us.” Jade states, voice frustrated.</p><p>“They said they woulda killed us, but we killed them. ‘S what happens to assholes.” He retorts in a frank tone. She’s baffled at how simple everything is for him. Almost jealous.</p><p>Bitterness is bubbling up somewhere, mixing with irritated confusion, “I’m no saint.” Jade grumbles, getting a light chuckle from him.</p><p>“Neither am I, babe.” </p><p>That word smacks her in the face, she’s so caught off guard that her frown becomes a stunned grin, “I’m sorry, <em>what</em>?” She asks rhetorically. He did not just call her ‘<em>babe</em>’. Hell no.</p><p>Laughing at her reaction, he has to take a moment to hold up his hands, “Ah shit, yeah that’s a habit. Runs in the family.”  He snickers some more.</p><p>Her mood just made a complete 180 and it gave her whiplash. You learn something new every day apparently. Good lord, she can’t help but let herself laugh at it as well, “I’m never going to get used to that.” She remarks, leaning back in her seat, “Sleep, you goober, I’ll poke you when we go.”</p><p>Another burst of cackles escapes him, “G’night, goober.” </p><p>The way he says ‘goober’ is fucking perfect, keeping a smile on her face for probably the longest time ever. At least since before the crisis.</p><p>“Night.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. lucky break</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>After running from a pack of walkers, the duo finds a house to stay in. Jade fears that strangers will find them again.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The rest of that night was <em> painfully </em>uneventful, but boredom is hard to come by these days. It was savored, no matter how long it seemed to last. Jackson woke up the next morning just right as rain, which still mildly peeved Jade. Chipper bastard. But, she wasn’t going to do anything to bring the mood down. Finally she had someone to counter her own raging angst. </p><p>They were back on the road at the crack of dawn, and like she promised, she poked him awake. Literally. Several times in the shoulder, it was very effective. And amusing, but like always, she’s not exactly going to let it show. Baby steps.</p><p>At least an hour ago, both of them acknowledged the hunger was mutual. With no town in sight, her instincts pushed her into the forest, and Jack followed with no question.</p><p>It was dumb of her to take him with, but what else would he do? She couldn’t have just made him wait on the curb. Even if that might have been the better option, considering hunting requires patience and specifically <em> stealth </em>. He had neither. </p><p>Her footfalls were deliberate, controlled, she watched her step. That didn’t matter, though, because the lumbering idiot behind her somehow managed to step on every single twig in his path. If she weren’t hungry, maybe the noise would be comical.</p><p>It’s not.</p><p>Another twig, snap, and it’s the last straw. Slowly, she turns around, eyes wide with stress, expression tense. Not a word is spoken, there’s no need to tell him to shut the hell up. He gives an apologetic shrug in response, looking like he’s genuinely trying to be quiet. Shaking her head slightly, Jade turns back to scan the area.</p><p>There. A fatass rabbit. Hell yeah. Well, hell yeah as in yay food, but goddamn it was old. They're everywhere, literally. Still, fuel in the tank, and she doesn't want to deal with his passive complaining or hunger-driven suggestions. Rabbit it is.</p><p>Drawing her arrow back, her eyes lock on, just as her aim does. Patience is key, she waits, the animal doesn’t see them, until- </p><p>
  <em> <b>Crack.</b> </em>
</p><p>The rabbit darts off at the sound of Jackson taking a step, and her blood boils, “<em> Shit </em>, sorry, sorry sorry…” He mumbles, cringing and shying away. Damn right he’s sorry. There goes food. Christ’s sake.</p><p>She has to take a deep breath, letting it simmer down, “Just- … Watch your step, please.” She really is trying to make her tone as calm as possible. Happy thoughts, peace and tranquility. Fluffy kittens. Or rabbit, which gives them food. Yeah no, the irritation is just as stubborn as she is, maybe more. </p><p>After she grumbles, the two continue on, the crunches and cracks still very much consistent. It sounds like he’s breaking the earth’s bones just by walking on it. That is, if earth had bones. There’s no chance it has bones now, every buried fossil in existence had all of its atoms obliterated. How the hell has this man survived this long?</p><p>The terrain changes, there’s a clean cut-off in the woods. Railroad tracks. As far as she can tell, they run parallel to the road they were on. She stops to listen for a moment, eventually turning left. Backtracking would be a waste of time, valuable time. There’s nothing left for her back the way she came.</p><p>Sighing, she puts the arrow away, carrying the bow with one hand, “Quick question,” Jade asks, not looking at him.</p><p>“Yeah?” Jackson hums, giving a quick, nervous glance. He probably knows the topic of said inquiry.</p><p>“Were you aiming for some sort of high score? Break more than fifty twigs and you get a golden egg.” Of course her tone is filled to the brim with sarcasm. The salt content in her blood is through the roof currently, this is  the only way to remedy it in a healthy manner.</p><p>Luckily, it gets him wheezing, “Yeah, I was keepin’ track the whole time.” He says once he recovers from hilarity. </p><p>“Oh, cool, how many did you get?” She asks without missing a beat. </p><p>Jack kicks a stone out of his way. It hits the railing, loudly, echoing around the forest. Nearly about to answer, a torrent of growls and hoarse groans kicks up from behind them. Jade’s heart sinks, her head turns, looking into the forest. Maybe twenty moss-covered dead ones are shuffling towards them. Jackson goes for his gun, but she grabs his arm, yanking him with her to <em> run </em>. </p><p>They book it down the side of the tracks, avoiding getting tripped up by the wood in the ground. Now’s no time to break an ankle. They reach a divergence in the path, another rail splits off from the main one. It goes further to the left, so she picks it. </p><p>“Over here!” Jack blurts, tugging her to the side. Jade hadn’t noticed it before, but a train car lay in the trees, tipped over. It’s enough of a hiding spot for now. Creeping all the way into the back of it, they listen, hearts pounding.</p><p>Where did that pack come from? Damn it, they should still be running. Her gut is telling her to run, “We need to keep going, back to the road, maybe there’s a town.” She whispers, panting, “We’ll find food later, Jack, we need to go. There’s gotta be at least twenty of them.” She presses on, urging him to keep running. </p><p>He gives her an unsure look before nodding, “... Alright.” </p><p>Carefully, she checks outside the train car, motioning for him to follow once it’s deemed clear. Her pace is rushed, she’s not wasting energy by running, but she sure as hell isn’t going to take her time.</p><p>For ten solid minutes, there’s silence, yet the rush of seeing all those corpses hasn’t faded. Her brow is still knitted, demeanor flighty. Still ready to run like her life depends on it. That was… A lot of dead ones. The most she’s seen in such a wooded area. </p><p>Jade’s seen massive groups of them, a hundred or more, all walking in one, random direction. The only chance you have to escape them is to hide. They swarm you, tearing you apart all while you’re still alive. </p><p>Jackson nudges her shoulder, bringing her back to reality, “Check it out,” He points over to the right. Through the trees, a whole neighborhood. The groans and growls of the dead are nonexistent. Turning, she smiles, climbing over the chain-link fence to get to the other side. This place looks nearly untouched. Just old, dusty. Abandoned. The backyard she hopped into is littered with papers, fliers, the bones of dead birds. </p><p>“No shooting, that pack is still too close. Knife or axe.” She says as if instructing him, pulling her own blade out of its sheath, “Stay close, listen for footsteps. Dead ones and people walk differently, the most we handle is a group of four.” Turning, she heads for the house, “Kill anyone on sight.”</p><p>Following, she hears Jackson pull out his knife, “You’re the boss.”</p><p>Turning the knob, she opens the door slowly, the hinges squeak as she enters. No corpses, just dust and empty cans. Giving Jack just one more cautious look, Jade fully steps in, knife still ready. The empty cans are coated in crust, clearly haven been emptied a while ago.</p><p>All the cabinets in the kitchen are barren, there’s no upstairs to this house, so she checks the other rooms, bedrooms. Dead mice litter the corners, it stinks like shit in here. The bed looks like someone died on it, and has been stripped of everything. This is turning out to be useless.</p><p>“Hey,” Jackson quietly calls, leaning into the bedroom, “There’s a basement, c’mon.” </p><p>Exiting the room, he takes her to the stairwell going down. It’s… Warm down here. The hell? He gets down first, but Jade trots in soon after. A smallish room, all concrete with a single bulb hanging from the ceiling. It’s either dead or just off, considering the lack of electricity.</p><p>There’s a weird hum coming from the corner of the room, she’s not exactly sure what it is until Jack says, “... Sounds like a damn generator.” </p><p>A string dangles down from the light, so it’s only natural Jade pulls it.</p><p>It turns on, lighting up the room, revealing a single cot, covered in a blanket and pillow. A whole pile of food and at least two full gallon bottles of water sits under it, at the foot of the makeshift bed is a tiny fridge.</p><p>Two emotions fill her. Glee and concern. Her friend on the other hand is absolutely elated, clapping a few times, “Oh, fuckin’ hell yeah, look at this shit!” He grins, sitting down on the bed, “We could crash here for the whole damn week if we wanted.”</p><p>The thought of being cooped up in a ten by ten cellar is not exactly thrilling, even if there is food and water down here. Food and water that someone else went through the trouble of hiding here. They’ll be back, she knows it, “Think again, “ Jade says,  crouching to put some of the dry foods in her backpack, “Someone’s been staying here and they’ll be back, who knows how many people camp here.” </p><p>His momentary pause lets her know he knows she’s right, yet still he objects, “Jade, look at this place! Ok- humor me, just one night here. We’ll take some food, not all, but some for the road, yeah?” He holds her shoulder, getting her direct attention.</p><p>Goddamn it, it would be nice to hide from the world for a bit. The threat of people coming is the only thing keeping her from agreeing. She hangs her head, sighing, “Ok, fine, but if I hear anyone coming back, they’re dead.” As she speaks, her gaze returns to him.</p><p>His expression is… It’s both relieved and distressed, “Right, yeah.” He’s not quite as enthusiastic as he was before, but he still unclips his backpack and shrugs it off, setting it down on the floor, “You think there’s ice cream in the freezer?”</p><p>“Don’t know, if there is, help yourself.” She mutters, analyzing every item she takes. Due to all the time she’s spent eating rabbit, duck and deer, her sweet tooth is lacking. Ice cream doesn’t keep her alive, and as far as she remembers, it gave her the shits. Neither of them want that.</p><p>No move is made to look, instead he shifts, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees, “You ok?” </p><p>Jade is not expecting that sort of conversation, she never is, “I’m fine, just… Stressed.” Because the looming threat of others isn’t very fun. People kill, so she kills just to get ahead of the curve. She has a feeling he might not be cool with that.</p><p>“Eh, don’t sweat it, anyone who sees us will just piss off.” His words are incredibly naïve. Sure, if someone saw him, they’d piss off, but her? She doesn’t get that luxury.</p><p>Green eyes shoot him a chastising look, “Did those four guys piss off?” </p><p>Blue eyes avert away, “Everythin’ will be fine, if you want to, we can leave once we’re done eating.” </p><p>Being torn isn’t a nice feeling. She’s forced to pick between two evils, two dangers. Stay here, risk meeting someone or another group. Leave and be exposed for the night until some other shelter is found. This is shelter, and again; she can always just kill whoever finds them.</p><p>“No, we’ll stay, it’s better than out there.” Her choice is made. It gets him to smile again, though, so maybe it’s a little worth the risk. And for the food and water, also that.</p><p>He just better not stop her from dealing with any strangers.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Morals</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Jaden kills a man after her and Jackson were discovered in the basement, the man's friend gets away, leaving them to disagree over the man's death.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It took Jackson a solid minute to convince her to have just a little bit of the somehow still good ice cream that was in the mini freezer. Plain vanilla, but she wasn’t complaining. Well, she <em> did </em>complain when brain freeze nearly put her into a coma, god that shit hurts. Not the worst pain she’s felt, but it’s high up on that list. She didn’t have any more after just a few spoons, as it hurt more than just her head.</p><p>Turns out, teeth feel cold.</p><p>Since then, she’s been munching on some peanuts, highly enjoying that they still had shells on them. It’s keeping her occupied, a constant, sometimes rhythmic fidgeting that ultimately has a delicious reward. The bag is definitely coming with when they hit the road again.</p><p>The conversation topic shifted a few times, now it’s stories behind scars. Jade doesn’t have as many as Jack does, but some of his scars aren’t because of fights. For instance; the one on his eyebrow, he got that from falling over and knocking his head off a rock. That story got her to laugh, an occurrence that rarely happens. It’s… Nice, honestly. And right now she can admit that just slightly.</p><p>He chuckles along with her, “How’d you get yours?” He asks, gesturing to the scar she has on her own brow. </p><p>“Just another fight.” She shrugs, “It’s one of the first scars I got, I think around… Fourteen?” Her own recollection may be off, some things just aren’t worth remembering. She remembers things she wishes she didn’t, but it’s probably for the best.</p><p>Nodding, he pops a potato chip into his mouth, “I stopped keepin’ track of the years.” It’s a half-minded comment, but she gets it, “Kinda hard to ignore the moment these days.”</p><p>Oh, that’s true, “The moment is a bitch.” She scoffs wryly, making him chuckle. </p><p>“C’mon, this moment’s pretty damn good, yeah? Pack on a pound or two, yer like an angry twig.” He gives a vague gesture in her direction, munching on another chip.</p><p>Jade actually wheezes for a moment at that. The ‘<em> angry twig </em>’ part isn’t inaccurate, “Not to toot my own horn, but this twig could one-hundred percent kick your ass.” She may lack size, but that doesn’t mean she’s not strong. All muscle and bone, fueled by spite. </p><p>He holds up his hands, “Not a damn doubt about it.” a few snickers escape him as he speaks, “Spare my shins please.”</p><p>Is he making fun of her height? She gives him a very pointed, albeit amused look, “I am not short, you’re just freakishly tall.” </p><p>“Sure, everyone’s freakishly tall when you’re short.” </p><p>She rolls her eyes, jokingly punching his knee. Tall bastard, making fun of how she’s vertically challenged. It’s amusing, though, most times it plays to her advantage. </p><p>He’s laughing, his bag crinkles, but through it, the floorboards upstairs creak. Her demeanor changes immediately, a silencing glare is shot at her friend. He’s quick to respond, something that’s developed on it’s own over time. Slowly, he sets down the bag as silently as possible, not shifting to avoid making the cot squeak. </p><p>More footsteps, hushed, muffled talking. People are here, this is exactly what she was worried about. She rises slowly to her feet, grabbing her knife from its sheath, mouthing ‘<em> Don’t move </em> ’ at Jack. He shakes his head, responding ‘ <em> wait </em>’ at her.</p><p>She doesn’t wait.</p><p>Turning to creep up the stairs, the voices become clearer.</p><p>“Did you check the trap in the forest?”<br/><br/>“Yeah, nothin’ stepped in it.”</p><p>“Damn.”</p><p>“... I'm headin' for the basement, hungry as shit."<br/><br/>"Quit complaining, don't touch the oat bars."</p><p>A man and a woman, both maybe 30 or younger. Steps are drawing toward the door. Coiling like a spring, poised like a snake, Jade stares at the knob. Knife ready, her heart pounds. She just knew people would come back, the basement was stocked for a whole damn month, maybe more if they really stretched the rations. She’s not losing this. Finders keepers, this is survival. She’d think it nothing personal, but that’s not true. It is personal, it’s about her and her own life.</p><p>She’s got no qualms ending another.</p><p>The door opens after what feels like an hour of built focus. She doesn’t even give herself a second to analyze the person, she simply springs forward, grabbing at the person’s shirt and going for the throat. It’s the man, his hands grab her shoulders in a panic, but it’s too late. Her knife is hilt deep in his throat before he even realized she was there. A voice screams the man’s name, “SAM!” </p><p>Assuming they have guns- something she’s come to find out are quite popular- she ducks, retreating back into the stairwell to dodge. No bullets? Good. Keeping low to the ground, Jade practically sprints out, seeing the woman at the end of the hallway. Shockingly, she’s relatively short as well, letting Jade charge-tackle her to the floor before raising her blade to-</p><p>“No! Jade, Stop!” </p><p>Jackson’s voice causes her movement to falter, letting the woman throw a punch and get away. Wiggling out from under, a kick lands on her stomach, nearly getting her to throw up. Determination keeps the food down, and she would get up to go chase after the stranger who’s run into the kitchen, putting on the bags and quickly fleeing the house altogether. But she can’t, Jack’s grabbed her wrist, “Let her go, please.”</p><p>Huffing, Jade yanks her arm away from him, turning to give him the most vile look she can, “I told you not to move. What the fuck?” She sneers, “I said kill on sight.” Her rage is fueled by adrenaline, survival mode has kicked on, the very mild sense of safety has left her. </p><p>He returns with his own hurt glare, “You didn’t need to kill him, we could have talked! </p><p>“<em> Talked </em>?” She parrots mockingly, “About what? Eating their food? There's no talk, Jackson.” His name is spoken with acid behind it, “Go get your shit, we’re leaving.” Green eyes fall away from blue, she walks past him with haste. The lack of a finished job leaves an unpleasant tingle in her fingertips. She hates loose ends, they’re deadly, that woman bent on vengeance. This town, this neighborhood is useless to them now, dangerous even. They need to leave, she needs to leave. Put this place behind her as quickly as possible.</p><p>Heavy footsteps thud down the stairs, “Jaden, wait,” Jackson sighs. She ignores him, putting her knife away once her bag is back over her shoulder, “Jaden.” He repeats, tone stressed. </p><p>She snatches her bow from the floor, slinging that over herself as well, “We don’t have time to wait, get your stuff.” She’s not letting this be a debate, but he clearly isn’t going to go with it.</p><p>“We’ve been here all day, we can’t leave now. It’s almost dark.” He sighs after staring at her.</p><p>He really doesn’t get it, does he? “Because of you, that woman got away. If there’s two of them, there might be more. Fun fact: People always want revenge. We need to go, now.” Jade states, frowning, “We should have left hours ago.” </p><p>Not another word leaves his mouth, only a short huff. Reluctantly, he gathers his things as well, putting some food in his bag before he puts it on. </p><p>Two hours pass, the town is all around them and it’s not fun. Dusk is rolling in, shelter is needed more than ever now. They might just need to camp out on the roof of a house, if they don't find shelter at all. They better hope it doesn’t rain.</p><p>Those two hours were filled with silence. A few dead ones nearly missed them, only drawn by smell and the sound of solid walking. Irritation made her waste her time with them, until they locked themselves in the musty backroom of a gas station. Three fully dead bodies lay beyond the blue metal door, Jackson acting as the barricade. </p><p>Sitting on the floor, it’s hard to acknowledge each other. Why did he have such an issue with it? Why does he think he can talk with these people? It’s infuriating. She did what she had to do, the only thing she could do. Kill or be killed, that’s the system. She’s lived by it for years, it’s why she’s still here.</p><p>It grates on her mind, forming a sharp headache. Fucking great. Just perfect. </p><p>She’s so tired, but nerves keep her awake. Fear of that woman, fear of more people hunting them down. The urge to run keeps bubbling up, but it’s too dark for that now.</p><p>Green eyes refocus, finding him with his head leaned back against the door, eyes closed. He’s asleep, or at least he seems asleep. Jade wants to sleep, she really does, she can at least try. Closing her eyes, she tucks herself deeper into the corner of the small room. Like a mantra in her head, she tells herself she did what she had to do. Until eventually, sleep finds her.</p><p>It traps her in bad dreams.</p><p>Back in that stairwell, she sees the shadow of someone just through the space under the door. The knob turns, the door opens. She can’t stop herself from charging forward, going through the same motions of grabbing someone and stabbing them in the neck.</p><p>The figure looks like it can’t decide what face it wants, blood gushes from the wound, onto her hands and face. From down the hall, an agonized cry rings in her ears. She turns her head, looking at the source.</p><p>It’s <em>herself</em>. Frozen in fear, staring at the person she just killed.</p><p>Dread is the only thing she feels now, her gaze flicks back to her target.</p><p><em>Jackson</em>.</p><p>Dead blue eyes.</p><p>His blood keeps coming.</p><p>The crying doesn’t stop.</p><p>Until she opens her eyes.</p>
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<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Clarity</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Rain keeps them stuck in the gas station, allowing a conversation to occur.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Not another second of sleep was found, instead she listened to the rain start and never seem to stop. It’d slow to a sprinkle, then kick back into a storm. Thunder sometimes shook the building, drowning out the noise of any possible dead ones walking passed the only window in the room. A tiny little rectangle of glass, wedged into the stone wall.</p><p>They couldn’t travel with rain like this, it was too dangerous. Rain gifted everyone the skill of stealth, those who already had it lost their advantage. It’s one she cannot afford to lose. So, she’s sat there for hours since the dead of night, waiting. She wouldn’t let herself think of the inevitable conversation that would arise once Jackson woke up.</p><p>She doesn’t want to think at all. His reaction made her question it, what she’d done.</p><p>But each time a tiny part of herself felt even the slightest bit guilty for it, years worth of habit, instinct and selfishness would shut it out. There’s no room for guilt. No room for error. Killing someone and living is not an error, it’s a calculated action that had a positive outcome. That outcome being her and Jack’s survival.</p><p>That's all that matters.</p><p>Jade would do anything to keep any sort of ally alive, given she likes them. She simply did what she had to do. She <em> won’t </em>fail again.</p><p>The not-thinking want has now fallen through, haven given way to the flood that is her brain a long time ago. Always thinking, reasoning, wondering. Sometimes she’d find herself daydreaming, but it’s been a long time since that’s happened. No dreams, just reality. Live with it. Cope. Dreams get people killed.</p><p>Seems like a lot of things get people killed these days.</p><p>A bright flash of lighting illuminates the dark overcast sky for a split second, followed by a booming crack of thunder. Jesus, that’s loud. Not expecting it, she jumps, tossing a glare up at the sky through the small window. Maybe right at god for being such a noisy prick. </p><p>It gets Jackson grumbling, he shifts with a small frown, blinking awake. She nods, giving a lazy greeting gesture, “Rain, we can’t leave until it stops.” He probably didn’t catch that, considering he just woke up.</p><p>He responds with a groggy hum, stretching, “Mornin’.” </p><p>Right, she probably should have greeted with that instead. A chuckle escapes her, “Morning, I think.” Can’t be any later than 10 am. Going for her bag, a granola bar is tossed at him. No words leave her. It’s an act fueled by a spike of guilt, and she only acted on it because he hadn’t had the chance to annoy her yet.</p><p>Jack doesn’t catch it, the bar landing on his lap, “Mm, thanks.” He smiles, taking it and promptly stuffing it in his bag. Of course, always save food for later in the day.</p><p>“Don’t mention it.” She says, holding back a yawn. </p><p>This is good, this is fine. The air between them isn’t as tense as it was yesterday. Keep it like this. Just… Forget what happened. Repeat the cycle. Kill, live, forget. Fill the empty space with mundane life, little things, tiny victories. The good in life. It’s hard to find.</p><p>Nodding, he lets his head rest against the wall, “How’d you sleep?” </p><p>Oh boy. She didn’t. Well, the sleep she did get wasn’t very pleasant, “Eh, the usual.” He’s been with her long enough to know the usual was pretty shit.</p><p>His expression of sympathy makes her feel… Uncomfortable. She doesn’t want his sympathy, she doesn’t want his care. She’s a waste of breath, propelled by spite, stickin’ it to the big man in the sky who’s tried to kill her a million times. </p><p>There’s Jaden and Jackson, but there is no them. No <em> ‘us’ </em>. Just… Allies until they’re not. </p><p>Silence consumes the room after her answer. She doesn’t like it. Where's his chatty rambles? The impromptu puns? A single crass remark? C’mon Jackson, be more annoying for once. There’s just strain, a discomfort that sticks to your bones.</p><p>It leaves her room to think. Fill the space with her own internal monologue of aimless drive. A plan for no plan. She doesn’t have any fond memories to replay, her ability to daydream was shattered a long time ago. So all she had left was to fester in worry. What was he thinking? Where did that woman go? The loose ends feel so heavy, a chain but no ball attached. Simply lingering. Looming, threatening.</p><p>Nothing she can say will defuse the discomfort, she’s not exactly good at being positive or reassuring. That’s his job. Relentlessly optimistic with a side of sarcasm and a pinch of salt. He always found some sort of positive to any situation. He always had a faint smile on his face.</p><p>But not now.</p><p>His expression is hard to interpret. He’s thinking, just like she is. It’s weird to see him think, to see him so silent. It almost hurts.</p><p>“Are we gonna talk about it?”</p><p>He finally says something, but it’s not what Jade hoped for. His tone is tired, speech almost reluctant. It gets her brow to furrow, her body tenses up as if preparing to fight. It is going to fight, in a way. It’s going to fight itself, “There’s nothing to say.” She flatly responds, avoiding his gaze. She can’t go back and change the past, there’s nothing to discuss.</p><p>“So, we stab first and then just not ask any questions? We were technically eating their food.” Since when is he so serious? Jesus, it’s jarring, this isn’t fun. </p><p>She can feel him looking at her, “I did what I had to do.” That’s what she’s been telling herself. All this time, it’s been what she had to do, “They shouldn’t have left that basement unprotected if they cared about it. Finders keepers.” She knows it’s a childish ideology, but it works. Did he expect them to ignore all of it? He didn’t, he nearly stuffed himself.</p><p>A strained exhale escapes him, “They didn’t even attack us, you didn’t need to-” </p><p>“I <em> did </em>need to.” She abruptly cuts Jack off, suddenly irritated, “We were backed into a corner, unprepared and stealing from them. If I saw that, I sure as hell wouldn’t be up for a chat. I don’t  take chances like that.” He doesn’t respond, so she continues, “I’ve had to do that for seven years, Jackson. Seven. Years.” Jade’s tone is stressed, exasperated, teetering on maybe too much emotion, “You think I want to kill? No, I don’t, but I wouldn’t be alive if I didn’t. You know that.” </p><p>His brows crease in an apologetic manner, expression soft, sympathetic. He feels… Bad for not understanding before, and it makes her feel bad for snapping at him. Closing her eyes with a sharp, tired sigh, her head falls back to lean against the wall, “... I’m sorry. I guess… Sometimes I can maybe jump the gun a bit. I just don’t want to risk anything.” </p><p>A moment passes, finally he nods, shifting, “I get it. I'm so used to being with groups, and… Me being me, I don’t need to fight all the time.” Blue eyes meet green when they open, “You’re not alone anymore, though, yeah?” </p><p>Ow, that question hurts, “... Yeah.” But she confirms his words quickly, just to get rid of that painful strain. She just can’t, she can’t do this again. But she wants to. Jackson can hold his own, right? Even if they watch each other's backs? But something always goes wrong, something always takes people from her. She can’t go through that again. It’ll break her.</p><p>“Hey, I think the rain stopped.” </p><p>Had it? She’d kinda blocked out the rest of the world, needing less input for once. Refocusing her ears, she finds that it has stopped, which is nice. That means they can get going, make the most of the day, hoping it doesn’t start raining again. Giving Jackson another glance, she rises to her feet with a groan, tired and uncomfortable due to the cold concrete she didn’t sleep on. It’s fine, not the worst she’s handled. </p><p>With the both of them ready, they set back out on the road. The much needed rambles of Jackson return.</p>
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